


Raw

by HalfpennyDreadfuls (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cannibalism, Dark Harry, Dark Harry Potter, Dark Lord Harry Potter, Dumbledore Bashing, Evil Dumbledore, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 09:32:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13924314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/HalfpennyDreadfuls
Summary: The sad thing was that being a Dark Lord was unbearablyeasy.





	Raw

The sad thing was that being a Dark Lord was unbearably _easy_.

Dumbledore, at the end of day, was still an old man. An old man with rickety knees, a brittle back and a constitution that left him wheezy before he could get _anything_ up. Once he made Dumbledore kneel, albeit at the end of a gun, the old man had done nothing but shake.

Harry fired once at his throat, and blood splattered over his glasses. Then he watched the light disappear over Dumbledore’s eyes, and smell the acrid stench of death taking over the chamber.

And all he did was smile.

_This was for the Dursleys._

Behind him, straddled on his throne, came a manic, high-pitched giggle.

Harry turned around. “My dear,” he says, spreading his hands wide. “Come here, would you?”

Voldemort, bright-eyed and hunched over, scrambled off the throne and to Harry’s feet. When he reached Harry, he didn’t dare look up, focusing on his shoes instead.

That was no good, Harry thought as he crouched down. He tipped the chin of Voldemort’s face up with a single finger.

“You have been good for me?” Harry asked.

Voldemort almost fell over from his nodding.

Harry trailed his fingertip down Voldemort’s chin, the underside of his jaw, and the bob in his neck. He ignored the way Voldemort shook.

“Good,” Harry said. “I have something for you.”

Leaning over, he whispered an incantation under his breath. His nail grew and sharpened. Carefully, lest they popped, Harry dug his fingers around Dumbledore’s eyeball. It was slick, and when Harry tried to scoop it out, a string of nerves was holding it back. No matter. With one tug, the bundle ripped.

He tapped one finger on it. The layer was surprisingly thick.

Then, he held out to Voldemort’s lips, lining them in the fluid that coated his eyeballs. In a wordless demand, Harry pressed it against his lips, and Voldemort sucked the eyeball in with a _‘pop’._

Then his jaw moved, and Harry could imagine the thick layer of skin giving underneath his fingers and the fluid rushing in his mouth.

Harry ran the back of his hand over Voldemort’s face. “Good boy,” Harry said. “We’ve still got the rest of the body to go through.”

 

 


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